


Something About Chains

by MasterSatanOverlord



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Amputation, Blood and Gore, Chains, Character Death, Cussing, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Murder, Past Pedophilia, Past Underage Sex, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Torture, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterSatanOverlord/pseuds/MasterSatanOverlord
Summary: After five years of grueling torture by the hand of his father, Grisha, Squad Levi saves Eren Jaeger from the cellar he had once dreamed of saving. Trusting only Levi, of all his saviours, results in him being placed in the stern man's care. But what if Eren comes to care for Levi as more than just a safe haven from his past? (Slow burn)





	1. Unchained

The steady sound of a thick liquid dripping onto a stone floor, into a puddle, quickly became standard. Infuriatingly maddening, but a constant. Same as the omnipresent sensation of a slow, hot substance running down my body and the always there pain. Suddenly, breaking into the dripping sound and my harsh breaths, is a muffled but sharp door opening then slamming shut again. Flinching at the sudden loud noise, I look up from the bloody cellar floor, knowing what's in store for me and hating how I can do nothing about it. Sure enough, a belt connects with my bare back, the previous wounds and sweat intensify the stinging bite of leather lashing into flesh. I cry out, the blows harsh and unforgiving digging into my body and leaving bloody lines, bruises, and welts. My flesh still raw and sensitive from earlier strikes and beatings. Grisha's arm arches down again, the strap again finding purchase on the skin of my back, producing a scream and choked sob from my throat. It had been years but the feeling of leather ripping into my body, courtesy Grisha's seemingly inhuman strength, still hadn't, nor would it ever, dull away or become painless or void of meaning. His intentions and reasoning, though never voiced, were extremely clear. He hated me, or at the very least, didn't care whether I lived or died. Didn't care if I suffered and even went out of his way to make sure I did.

"Dammit, Eren! Why the hell did you turn out so fucked up? Mikasa grew up just fine! I sure as hell didn't raise you this way! It was your fucking mother, wasn't it?" He sneers as he snaps my flesh, this time with the buckle of his belt, the thin metal piece punctures my skin and digs in, pulling out a small chunk of my body as he yanks the belt back. He drops the belt and walks a full circle around me, once before stopping behind my back. I can hear metal scraping lightly against metal, then the sound of a switchblade being flicked open. The cold steel drags along my skin, Grisha trails the flat of the blade from the side of my neck down to the back of my hips, pausing at where the waistline of my pants would be if I were wearing any. The metal is off my body only to be reintroduced to the flesh of my forearm, the sting of metal shoving into my arm causes my to scream, sob, the hot tears stream down my face, burning my cheeks as I attempt to thrash around and rid my body of the frigid sting buried within my flesh. Chains jangle and clank, my struggles only forcing the blade deeper into my body and I can feel it scrape across bone. Pleading and begging with the man who's supposed to care for me, he shows no signs of even recognizing me, showing no remorse as he lifts the blade a bit to rip it more easily through my flesh, drawing a line a few inches below my elbow, going all the way around the perimeter, slicing all the way around the appendage to the bone. Though I stop thrashing, my screams don't cease. I can't stop. The pain is gone, throbbing still present, but the sensation of my flesh being torn and sawed open was gone. He pulls back, my throat is hoarse and sore so I hang, unable to do more than gasp for breath. "You've been good today, faggot..." He trails off, unchaining my legs only to push them up, over his shoulders. There's the telling sound of a zipper and rustling of clothing, his pants and underwear drop to his mid-thigh, leaving him practically half-naked, his hips pressed against the back of my naked thighs. With no further warning, I felt a sharp pain as something blunt was pushed into my body. I gasp and writhe, throwing my head back as tears fill my eyes that had just managed to dry. I hear a guttural moan coming from the throat of my father, right in my ear, then the slap of skin on skin as his hips retreat then snap back against my thighs, pulling his penis almost out before thrusting it back in. This continues for a bit, him slamming his body into me painfully with groans of pleasure while I struggled to get away, but the way he had me positioned made it made it near impossible while he proceeded to do what he pleased with my body. Finally, his thrusts stutter to a stop as he moans low, I feel a warm sensation coat my insides. And suddenly I'm empty, with nothing keeping his essence inside me, the vile substance slips from my violated, no longer virgin hole and runs down my legs which Grisha had let drop, leaving me hanging by only my hands. Tucking himself back into his pants, he reaches up and undoes the chain keeping me up. My body drops painfully to the floor. My hands were free. Before I can process this, or my actions, I had somehow managed to snatch up the switchblade he had used to slice my arm down to the bone. The same metal that had been embedded in my flesh was now in his, his shoulder, chest, stomach, neck, face, anywhere I could reach. Before long, he had dropped to the ground and stopped struggling. I didn't stop. I didn't stop sinking the steel into his body until I couldn't recognize his face. Until the puddle of blood beneath him was as cold as the rest of the room. By then I had deteriorated into hysterical sobs, the bloodied knife dropping from my hand that wasn't paralyzed. I curl into myself, resting my head on my knees and hugging my legs to my chest. Sitting in the corner of the dark, dank room, I continue to cry until there doesn't seem to be any liquid left in my body to cry.

After a long time sitting there, I hear a deafening crack and look up at the door Grisha would come through. But the man standing in the door wasn't Grisha. He was short, deathly pale with raven black hair styled into an undercut and silvery gray eyes. His eyes roam across the filthy room with a look of distaste written across his angelic face. His gaze lands on Grisha's corpse and a look of curious surprise crossed his otherwise emotionless visage before the steely orbs continue their journey along the damned cellar until they fall on me and meet my own inquisitive stare. He makes a sound of disapproval, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth, before moving towards me and pulling me up almost violently. "Come on brat." His voice is rough, deep. Pleasant. Even if he was churlish, a look of guilt shows when he sees the blood still seeping from my arm and the disgusting, pink tinged cum, now almost dry, smeared on my legs paired with the tears staining my cheeks. I follow him and soon find myself outside for the first time in who knows how long. I greedily suck in fresh, clean air as a small group of people comes closer. A small strawberry blonde female, a tall blond man with incredible eyebrows, a man with a large nose and long sandy blond hair, and a person with light brown hair, glasses, and an unidentifiable gender. As the brunet draws closer, I recognize a doctor's coat and I back away as quickly as possible. Everyone was talking at once and I couldn't make out any specific words, but as soon as I saw a needle, so like the ones Grisha would use to fill me with all kinds of drugs, in the presumed doctor's hand, my body froze up in fear, my mind spun. I turned and made to dash away, there were shouts and a foot connected with the back of my skull making me drop to the ground unceremoniously, incoherent, as I struggled to get up, my arm was burning again and I felt the needle shoved under my skin, its contents emptying into my bloodstream. My vision goes blurry, then black and the sounds all fade into nothingness as I feel my body pitch forward.


	2. A New Kind Of Prison

I groggily lift my head, my vision is still dark but I can make out shapes and colors. At least I'm not blind. Sitting up, I realize that I am no longer chained up in Grisha's basement, that my most recent of wounds have been bandaged, however, my left arm had seemingly been removed at the elbow. I have somehow found myself on a thin mattress set in a small bed frame. The room is light, almost airy. The walls are an almost pastel shade of green, and the air, though it was fresh, smelled of chemicals and sanitization. Upon further analysis of the room, I can tell it is a doctor's office by the presence of all the equipment. My eyes widen. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I stand. The wires, tubes, and other apparatus attached to me tug at my skin, but I yank them away from my body and rush at the door. The sudden movement causes my head to pitch, my screaming headache finally becoming known. This makes me stop, but only momentarily. I refuse to be chained up again, to be tortured and abused. For what? Because I happen to enjoy men more than women?

After I gain my bearings once again, I'm dashing to the door, hoping to out of it and far gone by the time any doctor arrives to check in on me. However, unluckily for me, about half a dozen nurses burst through the door just as I was reaching out for the handle. I forgot that damn equipment alerted them! I keep running, trying to push past the grouping of people in hospital scrubs to no avail. A large male with short blond hair and a ridiculous amount of muscle for a nurse had grabbed onto the back of the damn hospital gown I was changed into, keeping me in place. My head throbbed again and I was fighting to simply keep on my feet.

"Oh! He's awake?" I hear an overly excited voice from in front of me and I look up, forcing away the blur and shadow in my vision to see a person with long brown hair pulled back away from their red glasses clad face and their scrubs mostly covered with a white lab coat. My fight comes back with a vengeance and I struggle, squirming and writhing, trying to get out of the hand of this blond brute. "Eren, that's your name right?" The doctor has moved closer to me and I can make out the name on their nametag to read Dr. Zoe Hanji. I don't acknowledge the doctor as I kick out, striking my captor's left kneecap. However, this doesn't even seem to phase them, even as I continue to kick them in the same place over and over, my strength at the highest setting. "Now now Eren. If you don't calm down, I might have to sedate you." A syringe comes from the front pocket of the lab coat as Hanji takes a few steps closer to me. I intensify my efforts, but when Hanji is within a step from my current helpless position, I go still, almost limp. Accepting the fate of being yet another doctor's hamster. "There you go. Now, I need to make a call, but then I'll be right back. Keep an eye on him." The doctor turns and walks swiftly down the corridor while tapping on a touchscreen device that had been produced from another of the apparently numerous pockets their scrubs had.

I'm wrestled back onto the bed and held there as the equipment was re-attached to my body, the process wasn't terrible until it was narrowed to the needles left, then it was hell. Who the four needs five needles puncturing them and pumping different chemicals into their bodies? I began to struggle but the male blond nurse from before, I am now able to get a clear view of his tags labeling him as a Reiner Braun, grabbed my hand and upper left arm and pinned me down while another nurse, a brunet male, more slender and definitely much taller, held down my ankles. Between the two men, I was secured down fairly well. Unable to stop myself, tears begin to flow from my eyes, pouring out like hot saltwater rivers. The needles were promptly placed back in my arms and one of the now empty handed nurses begins to pull out leather straps I hadn't previously seen and wraps them around my wrist and ankles. These cuffs held me tightly in place, the small blond haired boy clearly wasn't as angelic as he appeared.

Soon after I'm restrained the nurses all leave the room. By myself, with the door closed, I allow myself the tears, the sobs I had been trying to hold back moments earlier. I cry until my throat and lungs are sore. Until my cheeks and eyes are stinging and raw from the salty liquid. Until I hear a door open. Quieting myself as quickly as possible, I turn my head as far away from the entrance as possible in my forced position upward. A voice, deep and silky, courses over my eardrums and sends shivers down my spine. "You. Your name is Eren Yaeger, correct?" I refuse to answer, to even acknowledge this person. Even if he has the most attractive voice I have ever heard. After a few moments of silence, I hear footsteps moving around the bed and drawing near my face. Closing my eyes, I swivel my head again, facing the door again. I might be acting childish, but I refuse any cooperation with this person, whoever it is. I gained some sort of intuition and I follow it whenever it decides to actually kick in and work. "So, Eren. How old are you?" Another moment of silence. I breathe in deeply and his scent fills my nose. Mint, woods, cigarette smoke, and the natural smell of musk. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Some more silence, then the sinking of the bed as more weight is pressed down on it. "Any close friends or relatives?" A few more moments of my own silence followed by the man standing once more. "Anyone you would like to contact?" He begins to pace along the end of the bed frame. "Dammit Eren! Answer me!" The voice was suddenly loud, ferocious, it sounded like he had suddenly apparated right beside my ear. I shake my head, quickly and jerkily. Grabbing my chin, he stills me. I can feel a glare leveled on my face, as he thrusts my head back, into the flat, sterile pillow. He eventually gives a heavy sigh and leaves the room, gifting me with blessed solitude. Once alone again, I look over to my amputated limb in melancholy, wishing that I had listened to Mikasa and left with her when she had tried to urge me those many years ago.

….

The next day, I awaken to the sun shining down on my face through a large window that hadn't been there previously. Upon closer inspection, I seemed to be in a different room, this one was still painted a light shade, however instead of a pastel green, it was the shade of a robin's egg blue crayon. Groaning, I attempt to sit up, only to be met with a hand on my shoulder pressing me back onto the mattress and the leather straps still holding me firmly in place. I look away from the hand, continuing to deny any of these bastards my acknowledgment of their existence. A voice rings out, a different man from yesterday, the voice was low but nowhere near as deep as the angel's. It was a pleasant, manly voice, but it didn't give me the chills, it didn't slice right through my very being. This voice, this person, offered me nothing. "How are you feeling today Eren? Any better? We need to know if you have any family we can contact for you. Your mother or father perhaps?" At the mention of my mother, I snap. That bastard had killed her years ago, right in front of me. I force my body up, through the pain, past his hand, and ripping through the restraints. Blood seeps through the binding gauze covering the stump where my forearm used to be, my sight goes red then black, as I hear the sound of flesh ripping.

…

My eyes blink open, welcoming the blinding light and stifling heat over the freezing dark, I sit up, kicking the sheets off my legs as I yawn and stretch my arms upward, toward the gray brick ceiling. The sound of a metal chain jangling echoes through the room and my eyes widen as I realize I have no idea where I am. Looking around, all I see is the same bland, gray brick covering the walls, no furniture, no window, no door. All there is besides the bed is a wall of black, wrought iron bars, this is the place you imagine when you think of a jail cell. On the other side of the bars is even more dull brick and, surprisingly, a few chairs wooden chairs with red cushions on the seat and the back. There didn't appear to be anybody in the near vicinity, so I simply hung my head and let the last few tears still stuck within me slip out from the corner of my eye.I groggily lift my head, my vision is still dark but I can make out shapes and colors. At least I'm not blind. Sitting up, I realize that I am no longer chained up in Grisha's basement, that my most recent of wounds have been bandage, however my left arm had seemingly been removed at the elbow. I have somehow found myself on a thin mattress set in a small bed frame. The room is light, almost airy. The walls are an almost pastel shade of green, and the air, though it was fresh, smelled of chemicals and sanitization. Upon further analysis of the room, I can tell it is a doctor's office by the presence of all the equipment. My eyes widen. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I stand. The wires, tubes, and other apparatus attached to me tug at my skin, but I yank them away from my body and rush at the door. The sudden movement causes my head to pitch, my screaming headache finally becoming known. This makes me stop, but only momentarily. I refuse to be chained up again, to be tortured and abused. For what? Because I happen to enjoy men more than women?

After I gain my bearings once again, I'm dashing to the door, hoping to out of it and far gone by the time any doctor arrives to check in on me. However, unluckily for me, about half a dozen nurses burst through the door just as I was reaching out for the handle. I forgot that damn equipment alerted them! I keep running, trying to push past the grouping of people in hospital scrubs to no avail. A large male with short blond hair and a ridiculous amount of muscle for a nurse had grabbed onto the back of the damn hospital gown I was changed into, keeping me in place. My head throbbed again and I was fighting to simply keep on my feet.

"Oh! He's awake?" I hear an overly excited voice from in front of me and I look up, forcing away the blur and shadow in my vision to see a person with long brown hair pulled back away from their red glasses clad face and their scrubs mostly covered with a white lab coat. My fight comes back with a vengeance and I struggle, squirming and writhing, trying to get out of the hand of this blond brute. "Eren, that's your name right?" The doctor has moved closer to me and I can make out the name on their nametag to read Dr. Zoe Hanji. I don't acknowledge the doctor as I kick out, striking my captor's left kneecap. However, this doesn't even seem to phase them, even as I continue to kick them in the same place over and over, my strength at the highest setting. "Now now Eren. If you don't calm down, I might have to sedate you." A syringe comes from the front pocket of the lab coat as Hanji takes a few steps closer to me. I intensify my efforts, but when Hanji is within a step from my current helpless position, I go still, almost limp. Accepting the fate of being yet another doctor's hamster. "There you go. Now, I need to make a call, but then I'll be right back. Keep an eye on him." The doctor turns and walks swiftly down the corridor while tapping on a touchscreen device that had been produced from another of the apparently numerous pockets their scrubs had.

I'm wrestled back onto the bed and held there as the equipment was re-attached to my body, the process wasn't terrible until it was narrowed to the needles left, then it was hell. Who the four needs five needles puncturing them and pumping different chemicals into their bodies? I began to struggle but the male blond nurse from before, I am now able to get a clear view of his tags labeling him as a Reiner Braun, grabbed my hand and upper left arm and pinned me down while another nurse, a brunet male, more slender and definitely much taller, held down my ankles. Between the two men, I was secured down fairly well. Unable to stop myself, tears begin to flow from my eyes, pouring out like hot saltwater rivers. The needles were promptly placed back in my arms and one of the now empty handed nurses begins to pull out leather straps I hadn't previously seen and wraps them around my wrist and ankles. These cuffs held me tightly in place, the small blond haired boy clearly wasn't as angelic as he appeared.

Soon after I'm restrained the nurses all leave the room. By myself, with the door closed, I allow myself the tears, the sobs I had been trying to hold back moments earlier. I cry until my throat and lungs are sore, until my cheeks and eyes are stinging and raw from the salty liquid. Until I hear a door open. Quieting myself as quickly as possible, I turn my head as far away from the entrance as possible in my forced position upward. A voice, deep and silky, courses over my eardrums and sends shivers down my spine. "You. Your name is Eren Yaeger, correct?" I refuse to answer, to even acknowledge this person. Even if he has the most attractive voice I have ever heard. After a few moments of silence, I hear footsteps moving around the bed and drawing near my face. Closing my eyes, I swivel my head again, facing the door again. I might be acting childish, but I refuse any cooperation with this person, whoever it is. I gained some sort of intuition and I follow it whenever it decides to actually kick in and work. "So, Eren. How old are you?" Another moment of silence. I breathe in deeply and his scent fills my nose. Mint, woods, cigarette smoke, and the natural smell of musk. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Some more silence, then the sinking of the bed as more weight is pressed down on it. "Any close friends or relatives?" A few more moments of my own silence followed by the man standing once more. "Anyone you would like to contact?" He begins to pace along the end of the bed frame. "Dammit Eren! Answer me!" The voice was suddenly loud, ferocious, it sounded like he had suddenly apparated right beside my ear. I shake my head, quickly and jerkily. Grabbing my chin, he stills me. I can feel a glare leveled on my face, as he thrusts my head back, into the flat, sterile pillow. He eventually gives a heavy sigh and leaves the room, gifting me with blessed solitude. Once alone again, I look over to my amputated limb in melancholy, wishing that I had listened to Mikasa and left with her when she had tried to urge me those many years ago.

….

The next day, I awaken to the sun shining down on my face through a large window that hadn't been there previously. Upon closer inspection, I seemed to be in a different room, this one was still painted a light shade, however instead of a pastel green, it was the shade of a robin's egg blue crayon. Groaning, I attempt to sit up, only to be met with a hand on my shoulder pressing me back onto the mattress and the leather straps still holding me firmly in place. I look away from the hand, continuing to deny any of these bastards my acknowledgment of their existence. A voice rings out, a different man from yesterday, the voice was low but nowhere near as deep as the angel's. It was a pleasant, manly voice, but it didn't give me the chills, it didn't slice right through my very being. This voice, this person, offered me nothing. "How are you feeling today Eren? Any better? We need to know if you have any family we can contact for you. Your mother or father perhaps?" At the mention of my mother, I snap. That bastard had killed her years ago, right in front of me. I force my body up, through the pain, past his hand, and ripping through the restraints. Blood seeps through the binding gauze covering the stump where my forearm used to be, my sight goes red then black, as I hear the sound of flesh ripping.

…

My eyes blink open, welcoming the blinding light and stifling heat over the freezing dark, I sit up, kicking the sheets off my legs as I yawn and stretch my arms upward, toward the gray brick ceiling. The sound of a metal chain jangling echoes through the room and my eyes widen as I realize I have no idea where I am. Looking around, all I see is the same bland, gray brick covering the walls, no furniture, no window, no door. All there is besides the bed is a wall of black, wrought iron bars, this is the place you imagine when you think of a jail cell. On the other side of the bars is even more dull brick and, surprisingly, a few chairs wooden chairs with red cushions on the seat and the back. There didn't appear to be anybody in the near vicinity, so I simply hung my head and let the last few tears still stuck within me slip out from the corner of my eye.


	3. Shackles Of The Past

Once I've cried until I couldn't cry anymore, I look down at the shackles around my wrists, staring at them forlornly, incomprehensively before blinking. My arm… I lift my left arm, staring at my hand in wonder. Had that all been a nightmare..? No. No way… I think to myself, turning the back of my hand to stare at it from a different angle as though it would disappear. It didn't. There it was, still attached to my arm. I hear a loud clang as a distant door is opened and I scramble back to press my back to the cold stone of the wall behind me. I bring my knees to my chest, curling into myself as much as possible. After some loud footsteps, I hear the clatter of keys swinging together, the clicking of a lock opening, the groaning of a door swinging open. I lift my head slightly to see what was happening. The dark haired angel was walking into the cell, a tray of food in his hand. He walks forward, perching himself on the edge of the bed I was attached to, holding out the tray to me.

"Eat. Then we'll talk." He crosses one leg over the other as he pushes the food into my lap, a small glass cup sloshing out some of the steaming liquid inside. I look up at him cautiously, before reaching out to pick up the roll of bread, tearing off a piece and shoving it into my mouth. I couldn't remember the last time I had solid food, Grisha had instead kept me alive using shots containing the necessary vitamins and nutrients. I chew carefully, not wanting to bite my tongue or cheek in my haste. I wanted to taste it, to feel the texture as the bread softened in my mouth, turning to mush before I swallowed it. Just that was enough for me, that little morsel would have been enough, but there was meat of some sort, as well as a couple potatoes.

I ate all the food slowly, really feeling it and experiencing it, closing my eyes and smiling a bit as tears run over, but just a couple. I remember the food from before, but not the taste, not the texture or the smell. I swallow the last bit of potato and open my eyes again, looking at the tray and finding that the liquid had cooled down, no longer steaming, I took a sip. It smelled sweet, like plants and had the same herbal taste. Tea. I hold the cup to my chest, drinking it slowly as the angel began to speak.

"Eren. My name is Levi. I'm a squad captain for the Survey Corps." His voice is quiet, soft. "I just need to ask a few questions. If you can cooperate I'll see about getting you moved back." He reaches toward me and I flinch back, the warm tea splashing out of the cup and sliding down my hands. He takes the tray from my lap and stands, walking out of the cell but keeping the door open. He places the tray on one of the wooden chairs before coming back in. "Do you think you could talk to me?" His stormy gray eyes look into mine and I look back down to my cup of tea and nod. "Excellent. I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you about your living circumstances before I found you. Do you think you could tell me about that?" His voice lowers a bit as if he understood exactly what he was asking.

I nod before beginning to speak slowly, quietly. My voice was a little rough from crying, from screaming, and from non-use. "I lived with my father Grisha, my mother, Carla, and my adopted sister Mikasa. When I was thirteen years old I told my sister..." I trail off, biting my lip as I look at the man sitting in front of me, unsure as to how the treatment might change if I told him what I had told Mikasa years ago.

"I told her a secret and somehow my dad had found out, he began to hit me. Not too bad, or even often. Eventually, Mikasa tried to convince me to leave, to run away with her. She didn't tell me why she left, but she wanted me to come, to leave the abuse. I didn't want Grisha to start hitting my mom though, so I stayed. Once he found out Mikasa had left, Grisha began hitting me harder, more often. It eventually got to the point of him chaining me up. He kept me there, in that room. After a couple years, I was fifteen, Grisha came in, dragging my mom in with him, she was crying, and bruised. Sometimes she would come in to visit me, but Grisha didn't know, she only came while he was at work. He began to hit her, hard, I was yelling but I couldn't stop it, I yanked at the chains but it didn't do anything. He grabbed one of his needles and stabbed it into her neck. She was on the ground, bleeding, and began coughing, there was more blood. She looked at me, like she was apologizing, eyes full of tears as she fell. He laughed then. He fucking laughed." I was angry, but not daring to shout as tears began to stream from my eyes. I knew though, if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to talk again. So I kept going. Pouring out my life story.

"That was when he began to experiment with me, injecting me with something that wasn't the nutrient shots. Sometimes putting me to sleep. He decided I didn't need clothes. I wasn't going anywhere." I notice as I say that, the clothes over my body. A loose shirt and pants. I was grateful for that. For so much of what these people had done. "He started to punish me in other ways… And that continued until now I suppose. He dropped the knife he used to cut my arm and let me down to relieve myself. I picked it up at didn't stop until I couldn't keep going. Then you found me."

I look back up at Levi, a small smile on my lips as I look to him. His face was stricken with something I couldn't quite place. "I… I'm so sorry Eren." He sounded so sincere, I couldn't help but believe him. "You know nothing of the experiments Grisha was running?" I shake my head, taking another sip of tea and relaxing a little bit. "Okay… Thank you so much, Eren." He speaks as though he's done, but he doesn't move to leave. He sits there beside me until long after I've finished the herbal drink. We were sitting in silence, but it was comfortable. At one point after I was finished he had reached his hand out slowly eyes flickering down to the cup pointedly. I hold it out for the man to take and he does so, setting it aside.

"You should rest. I'm sure you're tired." He stands again, gathering the cup from where he had placed it. "Hanji will probably be down later to check on you. But don't worry, they won't hurt you. I can come down with them if you want?" He offers, and I'm quick to nod as he smiles at me gently. He takes keys from a pocket I hadn't noticed before and reaches for my hands slowly, unlocking me before heading back out and closing the door behind him, locking it. "I'm really sorry about this Eren, we'll get you moved back upstairs. I promise." He says before leaving with the tray and other dishes.


	4. Visiting Past Cells

I'm woken up again by the sound of a door slamming in the distance followed by footstep coming in my direction. Groaning, I sit up and rub at my temple, willing myself to wake up as I gaze outside of the room I am currently situated in. I see Levi and the doctor from before, Zoe Hanji, making their way to the door of the cell. The door is unlocked and Levi walks in, taking the same place on the bed that he had previously whereas Hanji walked slowly toward me. "Why hello Eren. I'm sorry for our previous meeting." They actually seemed a bit sheepish, and it helped that instead of the medical garb they had been wearing previously they were now clad in simple black pants and a light gray shirt. "Are you feeling up to talking now?" They ask and I can't help moving my gaze to Levi, hoping for some sort of affirmation but all I get is a look of hope, no matter how unnoticeable it might be. I turn back to Hanji and give a small nod before moving further back on the bed, pressing my back to the wall and drawing my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my chin on my knees. "Alright sweetie, can you tell me how old you are?" They ask, voice weirdly soft as they shift away a bit, sitting cross legged on the stone ground beside the bed looking up at me with a kind of hope in their eyes.

"Yeah. I think I'm eighteen now..." I say, unsure. Once my mom had been murdered I lost all sense of time, they bite their lip and turn their gaze momentarily to Levi before looking to me again.

"And you know who we are?" He asks, his gaze intensifying as his eyes meet mine.

I nod slowly, unsure. They had told me their names and that they were part of the Survey Corps. "You're Levi. And their Hanji." I say, gesturing towards the brunet in question. For some reason the name Levi had seemed familiar, he must be a higher rank in the Corps than he had said and been that way for a while as I had wanted to join the Survey Corps before Grisha had chained me up in the basement and had learned all I could about the members.

"Right. Now, what do you remember from before your thirteenth birthday? Any significant events or anything?" Levi asks, watching my face closely as though he was looking for something.

"Up until I was thirteen life was pretty normal, I suppose," I say, rubbing at my left arm and looking down. I had no idea if the loss of the limb was my imagination or if it had actually happened. "I was twelve when Grisha didn't me go out anymore so after that I don't know. He didn't really talk around me much unless he was insulting me and my mother only told me about trivial things. Talking about her day and what she had done and how the prices of different things were raising or lowering. I think she didn't want me to worry or something." I say, moving my eyes from the pale skin of my arm to the sheets just in front of where my hands were resting.

Levi and Hanji exchanged a glance, Levi's face expressionless but Hanji's betrayed the shock. Furrowing my eyebrows and look between the two of them, I open my mouth to ask what was so surprising but before I could get any words their gazes turn back to me and Levi speaks instead. "Nothing else? You can't think of anything else at all?" He repeats, stressing the words in a way that made it seem like something really big had happened. But what? What had happened? What did I miss?

Shaking my head slowly I stare at them, hoping for an answer to my unasked question. They look at each other again, seemingly conflicted before Hanji turns to me with a smile. "Thank you so much for answering these questions Eren! We have some business to attend to so we gotta go, but someone should be in soon with some food for you, alright?" They say, getting up to leave while Levi does the same.

"If you cooperate they'll let you out of there sooner," Levi says after Hanji had walked away. "Don't fight, answer the questions they ask." After that he left as well, leaving me on my own in the room.

Once he was gone, I turn my eyes back to my arm, pondering about if it was ever gone, how it had been replaced. What had happened that was so huge that they were surprised I hadn't known? I had too many questions. My head hurt. I needed to know.


End file.
